


No Signal

by danpuff



Series: Pacify Afterlife [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Chickenpets, M/M, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Misguided Albus Dumbledore, Pacify - Freeform, Pacifyverse, Past Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald, Puppet Master, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:29:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24990835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danpuff/pseuds/danpuff
Summary: Albus Dumbledore in the afterlife, thinking of what he's done.Set in the Pacify-universe, by Chickenpets!
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Series: Pacify Afterlife [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1859563
Comments: 23
Kudos: 88
Collections: Pacify Fan-Works: Fanfics for a Fanfic





	No Signal

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Pacify Part 1: Shatter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21993898) by [Chickenpets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chickenpets/pseuds/Chickenpets). 



Albus Dumbledore could not be trusted with power.

He had learned this lesson early in his long life. Young when he tasted that sweet temptation. Praised for his mind and talent. A meeting of like minds. A terrible plot. 

His brother’s words. His sister’s death. The guilt. The sorrow. 

Consumed, utterly, by his own greatness, and by the path to domination. Then, consumed by his own abject failure as a man. So, while Gellert fled, Albus remained to collect the broken pieces of himself, and reshape them into a better man. 

For the greater good.

* * *

Albus has not seen Gellert since his death. Nor his mother, or father, or Ariana. He will see them, he is sure. They will find him. 

They can stay, when they come. His home is beautiful, if empty. Three stories tall, filled with luxury. All manner of knick-knacks. Plush furniture. Paintings on the wall, though none of people - all landscapes and still-lifes. Books - more books than one could imagine. 

He clears a space in the living room for a television. At the Welcome Center, they had spoken of these magical tellies. How they show you the lives of the living, the loved ones you left behind. Albus placed his request right away, before he was brought to his new home.

His new home, in the middle of nowhere. Trees and grass and flowers and a pond. It is lovely and silent and still. Ariana will like it, he thinks, and his mother. 

They will want to know everything, he is sure. And he will tell them, tell them all he has done to right things. They will be proud. And together they will witness the war below end. 

And if the telly does not arrive in time, Harry will find him. Harry will tell him everything.

* * *

Albus could not be trusted to have power, but he was powerful. The most powerful wizard alive, for decades. It was not greed, but duty that called him to battle Gellert. 

Did he accept the offer of Minister for Magic? No. Because Albus knew he could not be trusted. He stayed to teach at Hogwarts. Shaping young minds - not power, but a gift. A man such as himself had much to offer. Was it not his duty to guide young witches and wizards? 

And when Armando Dippet retired, what was Albus to do but fill his shoes? Duty, not greed. Leadership, not power. Guiding young minds, and their noble instructors alike. 

Duty, not greed, when Tom Riddle rose to power. The Order of Phoenix was not created for power. It was his duty, as a learned man and a powerful wizard to stop Tom Riddle as he had stopped Gellert Grindlewald. 

But it was not to be. 

It was not his duty, but another’s.

* * *

Try as he had, Albus had not been able to save Lily and James. Albus hopes they will visit him, as well. He will assure them of their son’s goodness and bravery, as they have surely seen for themselves. Their sacrifice - and Harry’s - will forever change the world below. They will grieve, but not for long. Their son will be reunited with them shortly. They may be angry, but they will understand. They all will.

What is one life, three lives, compared to the world? 

For the greater good, he had always said.

It had been a solemn duty, bringing young Harry to the Dursleys. He would survive beneath his mother’s protection, whether Petunia liked it or not. And he had! Because of his intervention, Harry lived, and was protected, year after year. 

He’d lived, had he not? Lived too much for a boy so young, but lived he had. 

Lived and loved, even.

* * *

“ _But there is something you must know,_ ” Severus had told him. “ _Something I have done.”_

Drugging a student to sleep. To help Harry, of course. 

Violence and venom towards a student. A student he had known hatred for. But, “ _He finds my…animosity…calming, somehow._ ” To Harry’s benefit, then, if he craved stimulating interactions.

A known homosexual teacher allowing a young, popular, male student to sleep in his bed? Well, he was only sleeping. No harm done. Severus was helping the boy, despite everything. 

Harry needed help.

Someone to rely on.

Someone who could lead him to the end.

“ _I hate him,_ ” Severus claimed.

And if that was what Harry needed, so be it.

* * *

Albus was called to defend Severus much sooner than expected, but he was not necessarily surprised. His mind had not stopped - never stopped working - plotting and planning, even in his sleep. Of course matters appear unseemly to outsiders. Molly and Arthur were easily placated, but Remus was not. Such a shame, that Remus was so angry with him. 

It was good of Remus to care. But he did not understand. Only Albus understood.

Severus was helping Harry. 

And defending him.

Albus still remembers his words. “ _You want him to be perfectly innocent, pure, a child, yet you expect complete independence from him? To need no one? To stand firm in all this storm? Alone?_ ”, “ _I allow him to be weak_ ”, “ _-You cannot stand with him in the dark. You **refuse**._” 

And Severus had claimed to hate Harry. Such an impassioned defense of a charge he loathed. Such insight. Severus saw what the rest did not, and wasn’t that just as well? 

A connection made. A figure Harry would trust. 

Concerning, sure. But nothing improper, Albus told them. The words tasted honest enough in his mouth.

* * *

Had he not checked with Harry after, just to be certain? He was not so careless. Had Harry raised any objections to the situation, Albus would have stepped in. Thankfully it was not necessary. 

So easy to separate all Severus had told him, all Harry had told him, locked away in a box. 

The truth was between Harry and Severus, was it not?

* * *

Was it right, what he had done? Albus smiles sadly at his chessboard, vaguely shifting the pieces. He selects the white king for examination. 

Matters had been questionable, at best. As a headmaster, he should have put an end to it. The truth was so clear. Anyone with eyes could see, if they wanted.

But no one wanted. 

Albus himself did not want to see, and so he did not. 

For more than headmaster, he was a leader. A leader of not only a school, but a revolution. It fell to him to make the difficult decisions. Albus set the king aside, and chose a knight. It fell to him to make sacrifices. This was his burden, his duty. 

Separate, all he was told, versus all he had seen.

Separate, Harry the boy, from Harry the hero.

Separate, Severus the man, from Severus the solider. 

Regretfully necessary. He placed the knight beside the king. Right in the center of the board. 

Necessary, to gift the bracelets. Necessary to bind them together. 

And good.

Didn’t the hero and the soldier deserve fun? Deserve to live a little, before the end? It was good, what Albus had done. Good for the world.

Good for Harry and Severus.

* * *

It had not been easy to keep others off of their scent, but Albus had managed. He had set the stage early. “It is Harry’s preference to deal with Severus,” he had said. Over and over, reminding them, especially Minerva. _Severus is a good man_ , _Harry is a special case_ , _Harry prefers to deal with Severus_ , _Severus understands him_. 

They trusted Albus. As they should. For all he had done had been what was right. 

Do the ends justify the means?

Undoubtedly.

What was he to do? Let the world fall beneath Lord Voldemort’s rule? Let him slaughter countless Muggles and Muggle-borns because of his perceived superiority? Let him slaughter countless others in his quest for power and eternal life? What cost was too high to end such a monster’s reign? 

Harry was not being harmed. Harry wanted what Severus had to offer. 

However immoral it may be, it was Severus’s sin to answer for.

* * *

But perhaps not. Perhaps the afterlife would be forgiving of mistakes made for love. He can still remember the look in Severus’s eyes when learned of Harry’s destiny. 

Not much shocked Albus, but that had. 

Lust for a sixteen year old student, and acting upon it - that Albus understood. Severus had taken the Mark, had he not? He had desires, did he not? Harry was willing, was he not?

But love? 

Love. A great gift. Great power. 

And Albus could not be trusted with power.

* * *

Albus played his part. Over and over, he reassured Remus Lupin and Bill Weasley and Minerva McGonagall. He helped guide Harry through his testimony. He shielded them time and again, however careless they were. 

_Interlaced fingers. A kiss on the head. “ **I love you. I love you, and I won’t leave you.** ”_

* * *

It was war. What did it matter what a boy of consenting age did with his own body? If lines were blurred due to their positions, well - what was that compared to the atrocities committed by Voldemort? Albus worked tirelessly in the war effort. Had been fighting for years and years. Who had worked harder to defeat Voldemort than he? 

Severus did not understand - all he saw was his young, doomed lover. None of the innocent lives that would be lost before this was through - none of the innocent lives that would be lost if Voldemort won. Only Harry. 

“ _You don’t **care**. Well, I care. I want to save him, and it’s not because of his **body**._”

All would be lost if Severus could not do as he was told.

* * *

_They deserve love, the kind boy and the strong man. Two brave soldiers. Sacrificing so much. They deserve some joy, don’t they? They deserve love, don’t they?_

_It’s right, what he’s doing. It’s for the best._

_At least they can love. At least they can taste it, if only for a moment._

_Hadn’t Albus done what was right?_

_Won't they thank him, in the end?_

* * *

Better to have loved and lost. Hadn’t Albus loved? Hadn’t he lost? Hadn’t it pushed him to where he is now? 

Albus had made mistakes. Who hadn’t? And he had dedicated his life to remedying those mistakes. A champion for Muggles and Muggle-borns. Victor against the man he loved. Master of the Elder Wand. Leader of two wars. An intellect sharing his great knowledge with the world. 

Gellert would come to him, and Ariana. His mother and father. Lily and James. Harry. They would come. And he would tell them his stories. And he would listen to theirs. He would gather them here, fill the empty rooms. 

There is a knock on the door. 

The delivery person is nowhere in sight, but there is a box on the step. His telly. 

Barely in Heaven a day, and already a telly. 

Albus smiles to himself and reaches for his wand, but it is not there. No matter. He lifts it into his arms and grunts with the effort of carrying it to the living room. By hand he opens the box, lifts the machine, sets it in place, hooks up every wire, takes the remote in hand, and turns it on.

Static. 

Albus frowns. Is there no signal? He jabs at buttons. He flips through the user manual. For hours he sits and fiddles with the little box. He fiddles until he realizes. 

The noise of it burrows into his head, pixels filling his blue eyes, and the coldness in his stomach begins to spread.


End file.
